I got in. I was shivering from nerves and shivering from the cold. It was minus fifteen. I turned the key. Nothing. I cursed my luck, cursed my life. My wife came out. I told her to get behind the wheel and to work it while I pushed. She was still crying from the previous night. She looked old and lonely. I had no strength left but I was determined enough and the adrenaline kicked in. What if the car died for good? I couldn’t even think about that. If the car doesn’t work I die. Right here. Dead.
I heard the engine. It started creeping. She got out, no words, and went back in, the wounded wolf, one more indignity. Forget about the house. I wished I was never coming back. I thought I could die from the cold. I would have to beg for more clothes. I looked around like a madman. Nobody. They’re hiding behind the trees, maybe behind the derilict buildings. Knock it down for God’s sake and build something new, something that we could use, something cheap or, better still, free. Where were they? I had that feeling of inevitability.
I was at peace. I felt calm, a frightening feeling, surely the wrong feeling. The car fought with the ice trapped underneath. I had no time to clear it. The was snow all over the windshield. I had cleared a big enough hole so I could see. It was a hard job, hard enough to make my nails bleed. I sucked on the blood. It dried up. I reached up for the pack of Marlboros. I pulled on the wrapper with my teeth. My teeth felt cold. I pulled out a cigarette and lit it first time. I usually flick the ash out the window but I couldn’t afford to open the window so the ash went everywhere. No matter. Don’t delude yourself with cleanliness. It’s so peaceful driving when there’s nobody else on the road. No life. I made a cocktail of solitude and tension. I stared at Christ trapped inside plastic dangling in front. I thought it’s times like these when we really need you, when we look up to the heavens and scream CHRIST HELP US OUT! But you’re perfectly still stuck in the icon.
Time had no meaning and no feeling and I heard the sirens. I lit another cigarette. I watched the bastard crunching through the snow and hoped the snow would suck him in to hell. I pulled on my beard, analysed myself. My eyes were red with lack of sleep.
“Name?”
“John Escu.”
“Identity?”
I handed the murderer my life on few tiny pages, brown covers. He stared at it as if staring at nothing.
“What are you doing out? Where do you think you’re going? What about your fucking boundaries?”
“I need to get to Piatra Neamt, my mother’s very ill and she’s got nobody.”
He stared at me, nothing, and stared all around me.
“Ah...Marlboros...great American brand no?”
I handed him my pack. He put it in his shirt pocket as if it were his.
“So...your mother...she’s very ill...”
“That’s right. I have to go. It’s an emergency.”
“An emergency eh? What’s wrong with her?”
He didn’t think it was an emergency. He was ready to pull the gun on me.
“She’s got a brain tumour.”
He was ready to burst out laughing.
“Ok go, but John, you fucking cockroach, you’d better learn from your mistakes.”
He stared at me like he was my mother, father, teacher and God rolled into one. I nodded but I wanted to grab the bastard and strangle him, slice him up, feed him to the dogs. He’d just come out of the army, no idea about life, just having a bit of fun playing the power game. I watched him march back to his car, a young Godless piece of shit. I reached up for my second pack of Marlboros.
I tried not to think because thinking was dangerous. They don’t want you to think. They want you to work. They want bodies.
I saw no animals. They were hiding. Even the bears.
When I saw another car, a battered old grey Dacia with a battered old alcoholic inside, I looked away, couldn’t face another person eye to eye. What was he doing out? Maybe he lived there.
I stopped soon after. I felt like I was going to breakdown. I started weeping. Howling. I was flattened by a moment of despair. I found some coffee in the boot. It was cold but I could still drink it. I felt it going down through my system. I smoked awhile, shivering, no more tears, there was nothing left, when you crash through insanity everything feels neutral. I put on the radio. I gave it a smack for effect. Folk music, sad voices exclaiming happiness, everything’s perfect, everything works, that’s the message, don’t let sadness get in the way. I should’ve stayed abroad. In Portugal where it’s warm and civilised. On the beaches where they drink wine and smoke freely. On the beaches where it’s free. In the warm sunshine where the fish are easy and the women are pretty and kind, where the people have the spark of life in their eyes. I hit the radio again to shut its droning. I saved some coffee for later. I finished the cigarettes.
I drove until I saw the road block. It was the alcoholic idiot who’d crashed into a tree. His brains were on the windscreen. They wiped him off into the woods and left him there and noone would miss him. They probably shot him. It didn’t matter. One of the official criminals ran up to me.
“What are you doing here? Get out!”
I got out calmly, fully controlled myself and my empty frozen mind. He searched me. His face was like that of a wild boar. His uniform stank of booze. He insulted Braila under his breath. He led me to his car and barked at me. I got in. I watched them, four brutes, chatting, profiteering. Two of them got in. One of them went to my car and the other one I don’t know. I spoke a few words on the way but not too many words.
They led me to the room where they just left me to rot. I said nothing to defend myself. Shit and piss in the corner, rats waiting there, a dark room with no window and no toilet and no bed just the impression of light through the cracks, the dirt and dust between the cracks, tarnished iron and tarnished copper, no heating, no food, no drink, no smokes. I thought of my wife cursing me and cursing my parents, the little whore couldn’t wait to get rid of me but I brought in good money, and my daughter trying to study through the tears. I saw my house and all the work, the lifting, the plans, how good we felt when it was finished and my father celebrated in his usual style, by getting paralytically drunk. My father, how much anguish he’d brought me. He made good money but he blew it all on drink. I looked through the cracks in the door. Nobody. I would have to wait. Mother would have to wait. My beard was frozen. I couldn’t feel anything.
They came when I was feeling desperate enough to crash through the door or explode my head against the walls. My hands were stuck inside my jacket as they dragged me to another room with stronger lights and a five foot nothing weasel waited for me there. I should’ve stayed in Portugal.
“John...what did you see?”
I couldn’t really focus my eyes and I had to stop myself from spitting down his throat.
“See?”
“What did you see?”
“I saw nothing, I don’t care, I need to see my mother, that’s all I care about.”
“What did you see, John?”
“I saw your mother, cocksucker!”
I felt the electricity shoot through me and then I saw the floor and I spat some blood on it. They zapped me some more and then the weasel pissed on me.
“What did you see, John?”
“I saw...two cars...one had crashed...and that’s it...”
He zipped up. It wasn’t too smart walking around with his cock out. He offered me a cigarette. I took it and smoked it fast.
“We’ll drive you to your mother’s and you’ll do what you have to do and then we’ll work it out.”
I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand anything at the time. I spat some more blood on the floor. I threw the cigarette butt on the floor. I followed two boars outside where it felt colder than before. Once I got to the car, which happened to be my car, I passed out.
I found my mother in a terrible state. I gave her some money and I told her that she’s coming home with me once the winter’s over. I told her not to worry about me as I’m doing fine, the job’s great, the wife’s on the right track, and the law love me. The boars took me to one side and told me that I was a good man and that they’d let me go. They were impressed by the sight of my mother and they’d decided that I was reasonably innocent. They left and smiled to my mother with their gold teeth and wooden hearts. I made some coffee and went to have a warm bath. I left some blood on the coffee cup.